


Filled

by stardropdream



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Come Inflation, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Toys, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 07:09:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5239145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardropdream/pseuds/stardropdream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's an exquisite feeling of fullness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Filled

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr drabble request for portamis + come inflation. 
> 
> So I didn’t go totally literal with this (just because goddamn that’s a lot of come lmao), but hopefully this is at least somewhere in the vicinity of the heart of the kink. 
> 
> The legacy of the horrible titles continues.

It’s an exquisite feeling of fullness. Aramis whimpers around it, the way the plug twists up inside him – how full and warm he feels already, stretched around it and arching back into it, Porthos’ hands warm and heavy on him. It’s been a long afternoon already, Porthos lavishing him in attention – he always does, he’s always so good to him, always fills Aramis up and leaves him warm and heavy and satisfied in his arms – and just the thought of it is enough to get Aramis to shiver, whining out into a kiss as Porthos ducks his head and catches his mouth with his.

His thumb presses to his cheek, sweeps over him, and Aramis squirms closer, hand on Porthos’ cock, trying to coax away the recovery time faster, quicker so he can get Porthos to harden again, quicker so that Porthos can press inside him, already open and slicked up, fill him more and more.

“Porthos,” he whines out, can’t breathe or speak without saying his name, can’t think of anything beyond Porthos. He crawls into his lap – moving slowly, body stiff and worn down, not wanting to disrupt the plug from its position. Porthos’ arms wrap around him, drag him in close, and they kiss – and Aramis can feel the curve of his smile, taste the curl of his happiness that hums out from his throat as he touches Aramis. Aramis shudders, pleased, needy and spent and always, always needing more of that attention.

“Still have to wait,” Porthos reminds him, because it isn’t lack of interest that leaves his cock soft in Aramis’ hand. He drags his hand up instead, touches at his stomach, over his chest, drapes over his arms and sighs out as he presses their foreheads together. “Could always find someone else, too,” Porthos murmurs to his lips, knowing it’ll get Aramis to truly whine, “Just get a line going.”

The thought makes Porthos laugh, but Aramis just groans out, helplessly – he’s weak to threesomes, to more, has always been weak to that attention, to be used and filled and loved so concretely, with physical evidence dripping down his thighs. Porthos’ hands run down his back.

He knows that Porthos would do that for him, too. Knows that Porthos can be harsh and rough with his words, deep, growling murmurs against his ear about how much he loves this, how good he looks stretched around him – but he’s only ever rougher in his words because he knows that Aramis loves it. His hands are always gentle on him, even in the moments when he’s holding him down. The heavy weight of Porthos’ hand on his neck as he pins him to the bed and fucks into him can only ever be a welcomed, stabilizing anchor – never fear, never anger. 

“I can wait,” Aramis whispers as he kisses Porthos again and again. “You always make it worth it.”

Half an hour later, Porthos’ cock does plump up in Aramis’ hand and Porthos bends him down onto his hands and knees, removes the plug with unbearable sweetness, and presses into him – Aramis already so full of his come, already so full but wanting to be fuller. Porthos strokes into him, hands braced at his hips at first, rocking his hips forward – and then Aramis gasps out a whine and Porthos bends down, presses chest to back, and rocks forward. His movements are shallower like this, but pressed up to Aramis, he can fell all of him, and Porthos’ lips and teeth find his neck and Aramis is gone, lost, full. Always, always yearning to be full.


End file.
